


I'm Glad You're Home

by little_specificity



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Cabins, M/M, New Year's Eve, New Year's Kiss, Secret Saito Gift Exchange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:40:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28434774
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_specificity/pseuds/little_specificity
Summary: After realizing his life is in danger, Eames goes to Arthur for help and stays in one of his safe houses in the middle of the woods.
Relationships: Arthur/Eames (Inception)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 63
Collections: Secret Saito 2020





	I'm Glad You're Home

**Author's Note:**

  * For [soup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/soup/gifts).



> This is one of my two Secret Saito gifts for soup! :)

“I should choke you with that apron,” Arthur said as soon as he entered his kitchen and saw Eames preparing dinner, looking perfectly comfortable, using his kitchenware and humming to himself. “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

Eames, who had been anxiously waiting for Arthur to return for hours, partly fearing being shot and partly feeling excited at the prospect of surprising Arthur, smiled.

“Pasta.”

Arthur deposited his keys on a side table and took off his coat with unnecessary brusque movements. Another reason for Eames to smile, since it didn’t look like Arthur was furious and prone to attempt to kick his ass, just royally annoyed.

“What the fuck,” Arthur asked evenly, contrasting with how his cheeks were starting to redden, “are you doing in my house, Eames?”

“I was in the neighborhood and decided to pay a visit,” Eames said. Arthur was still in the same spot, waiting for him to continue. 

“You could have texted me, you know, like a normal person,” Arthur muttered, finally moving from the doorway and walking towards the windows, examining them. Since he was looking at the floor, Eames figured he was looking for broken glass.

"Darling, I'm honestly hurt," Eames said with a hint of a laugh. He knew he was playing with fire, but a non-life-threatening angry Arthur was one of his favorite sights. He stirred the sauce he was preparing without stopping following Arthur with his gaze as he moved around. 

"Are you seriously making bread, too?" Arthur said with a baffled tone of voice, noticing the smell. 

Arthur walked quickly towards the counter and pushed a grinning Eames out of his kitchen and into the living room.

"You were taking too long," Eames said as he sat down on a very nice looking sofa which was also really comfortable, contrary to what he had expected Arthur’s furniture to be.

"What do you want?" Arthur took a seat in front of him.

"I want to hire you," Eames said, taking off the apron so as to stop offending Arthur so much. 

Arthur didn't say anything for a second.

"To do what?"

"I need to lay low for a while, and I want your help to do so," Eames answered.

Arthur arched an eyebrow.

"You’re probably the best at disappearing off the face of the Earth when you want to."

"Thank you," Eames said modestly. "But you, darling, always seem to find a way to know exactly where I am. It would be rather alarming if it weren't so flattering."

"My job is to know where people are, among other things."

"I prefer to take it personally," Eames said. 

Arthur was going to comment, but Eames excused himself quickly to go check on their dinner. When he went back to the living room, Arthur was waiting for him with an expression that screamed _how dare you_.

"I need to seriously disappear this time, Arthur," Eames said as he sat down again, using a more serious tone of voice. "I may or may not have pissed off some rich people who would like to hunt me down, and I need to be so invisible that not even the greatest point man would be able to find me."

"Fuck, Eames, what did you do?"

"Those are details, Arthur. I just want you to help me," Eames said.

"I thought you said you wanted to hire me," Arthur answered, eyeing the apron that laid on the coffee table.

"I was kind of hoping that you would rather see it as an adventure, but sure, I can afford you," Eames said.

"You and I have different opinions on what an adventure is," Arthur muttered. 

Eames waited for a few seconds until Arthur met his gaze again.

"Go set the table, darling, dinner's about to be ready."

“You seriously crossed a line, Eames,” Arthur warned, but stood up to fetch two plates.

\---

“This is… surprisingly boring,” Eames said as they sat in the back of a van for the third time in that day. “I was expecting a private jet or even a boat, but…”

“You asked me to make you disappear, this is how you do it,” Arthur said, looking and sounding as if he was speaking to a child. “It might not be a trip to Rio like you’re so fond of doing when you try to get away, but it’s going to be more effective.”

Eames hadn’t known that Arthur knew about that, but it wasn’t surprising. What was, though, was the fact that Arthur had come along the way that day. According to him, it was to make sure that Eames got in touch with the right people and to carefully cover his steps. He explained it as the logical thing to do, as if every time he was hired to do something like that he traveled with his clients in the back of vans for hours. Arthur also said it as if Eames weren’t capable of following his instructions, which both of them knew was nonsense. 

“Yet again, dear, you manage to blur the line between romantic and terrifying solely by your good looks.”

“You have issues,” Arthur said with the left corner of his mouth rising slightly.

After that last trip in the back of the van of a friend of Arthur’s and walking for a few minutes through a small path in the middle of the woods, accompanied by the sound of branches creaking under their feet and the smell of mostly unaltered nature, they reached their final destination. It was a small, dark cabin that looked as if it hadn’t really seen better days. It looked old, dusty and not at all like the fancy lodge Eames had expected since he realized where they were going. Floral-patterned furniture, a small TV that was there only to watch DVDs and a carpet that smelled like something had died on it, was definitely not it. Eames could see the potential in the outdated décor and the might-be-a-killer’s-hideaway look; it only needed a bit of love. And a good wash. And new paint on the walls. And its taxidermy to be thrown away.

“I’m probably going to go insane after a few days,” Eames said as he deposited one of his bags on the awful sofa. The roof was too low, the windows too small, the oppressive ambience was almost too much.

“No, you won’t,” Arthur said as he did the same with his bag. “There’s plenty to do, like cleaning and watching movies… You’ll survive.”  
“But-”  
“You got yourself into this mess, Eames. The guys looking for you are good,” Arthur said, emptying the contents of his bag on the small dining table. “Here, nobody but me would be able to find you. It’ll be only for a while.”

Eames nodded, it was true that he was the one to blame for needing to get away so desperately. And he had been the one that asked for Arthur’s help. But his increasing uneasiness at the dark, cold and downright aesthetically offensive little cabin couldn’t be helped.

“Do you own this place?” Eames asked.

“Yes, I inherited it from an aunt some years ago,” Arthur said while looking around. 

“Good to know.”

“I know it’s not… pretty,” Arthur said, his eyes focusing on the deer head mounted on the wall, “but it’s safe, and it’s better to overestimate the people who want to kill you.”  
The tone Arthur used reminded Eames of how the point man spoke to Ariadne: soft, warm and filled with patience, and somehow managing to not come across as belittling.  
“No worries, darling,” Eames said, feeling the urge to wipe the frown on Arthur’s face just like every time he didn’t cause it. “I’m sure your aunt’s ghost and I would get along wonderfully.”

“Oh, she didn’t die here.”

“Things are already looking up, then.” 

“I’ll see you next week,” Arthur said before leaving.

Ghost or no ghost, Eames dreaded the weeks he would spend in the middle of nowhere. He could appreciate nature and all that, but there was something utterly terrifying in spending the night in the woods. However, Arthur was right: it was better to believe the guys that wanted him dead were good, rather than risk being shot in the head by a sniper, which was downright insulting. Eames would rather, well, die, than to be murdered so unimaginatively. 

So, in the next couple of days, Eames dedicated his time to clean the cabin, to wander in the woods and to watch movies. Contrary to popular belief, Eames could deal with loneliness just fine. In fact, he felt more comfortable making friends with the cockroaches than having to deal with spending the upcoming holidays alone while seeing happy families everywhere. The truth of that statement varied if the cockroaches were in sight or not.

\---

“I’m impressed,” Arthur said the following week, depositing the box filled with provisions and looking around the room. “It looks a lot better.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Eames said as he served Arthur some tea, “I was half afraid I’ll offend you by putting your aunt’s Hummel figurines away.”

“Oh, no, don’t worry,” Arthur accepted the cup Eames gave him. “In fact, you’re welcome to do any modifications you want. Just put valuable stuff on boxes, there are some in the tool shed.”

“Really?”

“If it entertains you...”

“I wouldn’t like to summon the ghost of your aunt.”

“She had almost as many houses as I do in all continents,” Arthur explained. “She told me I was free to do whatever here when she passed away.”

“I see that international criminality runs in the family.”

Arthur nodded solemnly and Eames chuckled.

“Any updates on my new friends?”

“Your head still has a price,” Arthur answered before taking a sip of tea. "But I’ll pull on some strings, don’t worry.”

“Thank you, darling,” Eames said. 

The cabin looked a little less grim, less hostile and more like a place Eames could actually enjoy when Arthur sipped tea alongside Eames while they stared at the trees outside the window.

\---

"Jesus, Arthur, what do you have here?" Eames said the following week, as Arthur entered the house carrying a large box.

"It’s a Christmas tree," Arthur started to say with an unsolicited exasperated tone that would have made Eames fume years before, "I know how sentimental you get during the holidays.”

They both knew that was a filthy lie, but Arthur looked away and went back outside to bring Eames more food, DVDs to watch and supplies to keep on with his new hobby that was making a decent living space out of the cabin. Eames stood watching the large box with a slight close-lipped smile that turned into a full-on beam when Arthur came back.

“I'm afraid I'll need help with this," Eames said as he opened the box carefully, catching a glimpse of the disassembled plastic Christmas tree.

"You're just lazy."

"Yes, Arthur," Eames said as he started to get the tree out, "I'm asking you to help me decorate a Christmas tree in this cute little cottage, while we drink the hot chocolate I'll prepare in a minute, just because I'm lazy."

"Cute little cottage?" Arthur asked, arching an eyebrow and smirking.

"Well, yes, I'm getting there," Eames answered.

And it was true. Eames had spent days reorganizing and redecorating, and the cabin looked much better than before. Only tearing off the fringes from the antiquated floor lamps made a huge change. The avocado bathroom had been disheartening at first, but Eames had grown to like it.

Slowly but surely, the cabin was looking like a home Eames wouldn't mind spending more time in. If one forgot for a minute how utterly creepy the woods got at night or the number of insects, the little house started to feel like a safe haven rather than the place one would imagine waking up after being kidnapped. Even more with the way Arthur dimpled at the Christmas tree when they were done with it, and how he leaned back on the hand Eames pressed on his back, briefly.

“I’ll spend Christmas with the Cobbs this year,” Arthur said later, as he washed their empty mugs in the sink.

“That’s nice,” Eames said, hiding the disappointment in his voice by stuffing his mouth with the chocolate he had left half-eaten on the yellowish counter minutes before.

“I’ve always been with Philippa and James during this time of the year since what happened with Mal,” Arthur carried on. “Even with Dom there now, I can’t break tradition. They both would-“

“I get it, Arthur, it’s okay,” Eames said, and he truly did get it. But getting it wasn’t the same as not being disappointed at the prospect of being completely alone during the holidays, yet again.

Arthur turned towards Eames and his gaze roamed over his face, but he quickly went back to work, and suddenly something had changed.

\---

Despite being alone in a cabin in the middle of nowhere, that Christmas didn’t make it to Eames’s top five worst Christmases. Sure, maybe some company would have been nice. He missed his mother, and his brother, and Arthur. But at the same time, he was glad to be spending time on his own. Eames liked to see the bright of things, privately, and decided to make the most of his stay. An opportunity of self-reflection, he told the creepy face on the wood grain of the ceiling, to find answers in a place in which he wouldn’t be distracted.

So he made himself a very nice dinner, watched Christmas movies while wearing his favorite pajamas and thought about dimples and exasperated sighs.

\---

A knock on the door wasn’t something Eames was expecting on New Year’s Eve. He had been ready to get drunk while listening to one of Anita Ward’s albums mainly for that one song and try to forget that there were people out there who wanted to put a bullet in his head; not to find a flushed Arthur standing on the doorstep.

“Arthur?” Eames said with creased brows. “What are you doing here?”

Arthur looked down and away, and Eames grabbed him by the shoulder to drag him inside to the comforts of warmth and soft disco music and away from the abrasive darkness of the forest.

“I was in the neighborhood and decided to visit,” Arthur smirked but his embarrassment was still apparent in the way he crossed his arms and shifted his weight from one side to another. He didn’t really try to hide it, Eames noticed.

“I thought you’ll be with, you know, your husband and your step-children,” Eames said tilting his head and fighting back the smile that was about to break through his face.  
“You’re ridiculous and, besides, that was only for Christmas.” Arthur rolled his eyes but a small smile adorned his face. “What the hell are you listening to?”

“You shouldn’t have stopped by this late,” Eames said, ignoring the question. “It’s almost midnight, and how sad would it have been to welcome the new year stumbling in the dark?” 

Eames couldn’t pinpoint what was different that time, what made him almost giddy in excitement and his heart beating in his chest. Arthur walked closer, smiling and looking warm and soft under the dim light of the lamp, the fireplace and the Christmas tree.

“This place looks nice.” 

They both glanced at the cabin, taking in all the little details that made it look Eames’s. The scattered books, the blankets on the sofa, the horrible paintings that he had decided to keep… The empty shell that was before, filled with dirt and hideous knick-knacks had transformed into a shelter, a refuge, a home. 

“I wouldn’t have welcomed the new year in the car, you know,” Arthur said softly and it took a second for Eames to understand what he was talking about, “because I arrived some time ago.”

Eames blinked.

“And you stood in the dark like a bloody psychopath?” 

“Yes, I was thinking if it would be distasteful to break in like you did to me or not, I‘ve never been good at jokes.”

“You would have scared me to death.”

“Yeah, I know,” Arthur answered. “That’s why I decided to knock, after all I've done these past weeks to save your ass, I couldn’t risk to kill you myself.”

Eames chuckled.

“Why did you came, Arthur?” Eames asked softly.

Arthur looked at him straight in the eye with a special gleam and the softest of smiles, warming Eames up. Something in that look clued Eames to step even closer.

“Because I need a place to hide for a while,” Arthur answered. That was not quite what Eames had been hoping for.

“Arthur!” Eames laughed. “What did you do?”

Arthur smiled and nudged Eames’s jaw softly with his nose, gently startling them both with the intimate act. None of them moved away. 

“Get some people out of your hair, put another in mine,” Arthur shrugged as if they weren’t talking about torture and murder. 

“Luckily, I know just the place for you to stay.” 

Eames put a hand on Arthur’s hip and turned to face him properly. His eyes were sincere, his grip earnest.

“Thank you, love.”

“It was nothing,” Arthur smiled, close. “You know that, right? That I would have done it even if you haven’t asked?”

Eames kissed the side of his jaw in response, and then his neck, as if it was the most natural thing to do. Arthur sighed and put his arms on Eames’s shoulders, with a hand caressing his back and the other messing with his hair. 

“I’ve been thinking,” Eames said, “about you, about us.”

“You really needed weeks in isolation to reflect on your feelings?”

“Don’t be an arse.”

Arthur kissed him softly, tenderly, as if they weren’t criminals that were hiding from other criminals, or as if there wasn’t a terrifying forest in all directions.

“I can’t believe I kissed you with a disco song in the background,” Arthur murmured on Eames’s lips.

“Me neither,” Eames answered, “a dream come true.”

Arthur smiled and pecked his lips.

“There’s another reason why I came here,” Arthur said.

“Yeah, love?”

Arthur only looked at the hideous-turned-charming-under-the-circumstances clock on the wall, waited for a beat, and kissed Eames again.

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to Anita Ward's _Ring My Bell_ non-stop these couple of days and I just couldn’t leave it out.
> 
> Also, the first scene was inspired by one of the movie The Gentlemen, more specifically the one in which Charlie Hunnam’s and Hugh Grant’s characters reunite. Such a great movie, by the way.
> 
> [ Come say hi on my Tumblr!](https://little-specificity.tumblr.com)


End file.
